


Don't deny it

by Miss_Kitten



Category: And Then There Were None (TV 2015), And Then There Were None - Christie
Genre: Awkwardness, F/M, Light Angst, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 11:25:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7101253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Kitten/pseuds/Miss_Kitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader, who is Mr. and Mrs. Rogers' adopted daughter, is immediately perceived as a 'tart' by Miss Brent, who also decided to reveal rather scandalous relationship between reader and Philip. Things get embarrassing, for everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't deny it

You knew in a second your eyes laid on him that you were lost. And that you would happily do whatever he would ask. You fell under his spell and he was well aware of it.

Yet, you did not expect much. You were there to help your parents, mostly to take care of your mother. She was so fragile and you were afraid that that job was too exhausting for her.

That lady, who arrived first, Miss Brent, was definitely a hard one to be around. You volunteered to at her service before your mother could even say a word. Miss Brent would most likely threw an inappropriate note here and there, say just a bit too much and then apologize for unawareness. You could handle it, you were not sure your mother would and you wanted to spare her unnecessary distress.

_____

“A young lady should cover her legs,” Miss Brent noted with an annoyed look when you were leading her to her room.  You were dressed in a white shirt (you left two upper buttons undone), short black skirt (which was ending just below the hem of your stockings) and flat black shoes. You had small white apron on and your hair was tied in a messy bun. You looked very differently than what was expected of service.

“I am aware of it, Ma’am, yet I believe that one should dress in a way that is comfortable for them. My parents do not mind my attire.”

She scoffed, entering the room when you opened the door in front of her.

“Do they mind how you’re perceived, Miss Rogers? Or they pretend they don’t notice the lustful gazes men give you?” she asked venomously, eying you with a disgusted grimace and you swallowed the curses you were about to let out. It would not do any good. You decided to not answer to anything.

“Can I do anything else for you, Ma’am?” you asked sweetly, giving her a gentle smile, to which she frowned unpleased.

“Well, yes. Refresh it before dinner and come here to help me put it on,” she ordered coldly, handing you a bundle of folded clothes and you nodded, before you went out of the room.

_____

You were standing next to your father when he greeted the rest of the guests. And you immediately spotted _him_. He was captivating and you instantly felt drawn to him. His name was Philip and from what your father told you he was a gun for hire. A dangerous man, but that only made you desire him more.

A certain tension knotted in your abdomen when he locked his dark eyes with yours, as the guests entered the mansion. His gaze wandered over your figure, taking in your exposed cleavage and legs and he smirked slyly.

Your mother led Miss Claythorne to her room, while you went down to prepare Miss Brent’s outfit. Your father was showing gentlemen to their rooms, so you had some time for yourself. You poured a glass of cold water and downed it in no time, trying to cool the fire that was burning within you. You were assuming that upcoming night would most likely be sleepless and you would not spend it in your bed. If what you saw in his eyes was true.

You made yourself busy with ironing Miss Brent’s shirt, trying to ignore almost unbearable heat between your legs. You had never felt this way, not with any man you were with. Not that you had many, however you thought that what you had felt with them was strong, but this time it was pure, raw lust and only Philip could quench it.

“Y/N, Mister Lombard asks for a glass of brandy,” your father’s voice came from behind you and you looked at him over your shoulder as you hang the shirt on a hanger.

“Am I not supposed to go into a man’s room?”

“He asked for you personally,” he said, quirking his brow meaningfully and your heart began to race. You nodded, heading to the kitchen to fetch a drink.

“Just be careful,” he added quietly, giving you a reassuring smile as you went out and climbed the stairs to slowly near Philip’s room. You knocked two times and opened the door, closing it and standing at the entrance.

“Your drink, Sir!” you called and only then he appeared. He walked out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist and you inhaled sharply, trying very hard to focus your eyes on his face.

“Thank you, Miss Rogers,” he said in a husky voice, coming to stand in front of you. You put the glass on a nightstand, taking a deep calming breath. Your body began to tremble slightly and the fact that Philip tugged his thumb under the towel did not help at all.

“Can I help you with anything else, Sir?” you panted and Philip smirked, looking at your heaving chest.

“Can _I_ help you somehow?”

“Can you..?” you cocked an eyebrow, and as if by his question he allowed you to stare as much as you wished, you dropped your gaze to his waist, noticing a proof of that, in fact, he might help you very much.

Smirking teasingly you fixed your eyes on his darkened ones and lifted your skirt enough to tug on a hem of your skivvies, which you slid down your legs and kicked aside.

“I take it as you need my assistance,” he said while unwrapping the towel and you gasped as his erection sprung free, hard and twitching, making you ever wetter. You rubbed your thighs together, wanting him to fill you, to take you quick and rough.

“Bed. On your knees,” Philip demanded and you gladly obliged, kneeling on the bed and spreading your legs wide for him as you laid your chest almost flat on the mattress. He squeezed your cheeks before you felt him at your opening and in one thrust he was inside you, not giving you time to adjust as he started moving in a crazy, erratic rhythm.

He was almost merciless, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

And just as you presumed, the following night was filled with the same raw passion.

____

Your parents said nothing, however you knew they were suspecting something. But as it didn’t disturb your work or made you distracted, they kept their mouths shut.

Moods were down that evening, due to even more deaths being discovered. You still were shaken after finding out your mother was murdered, but you tried your best to remain professional.

And now, you had just put a plate in front of Miss Brent, who gave you a quick look and a overly polite smile.

“Mister Rogers, may I ask you something?”

“Of course, Madam,” your father responded kindly, refilling Philip’s glass.

“I did not notice any similarities between Y/N and you or your wife.”

“Y/N is adopted, Madam. We took her when she was 5 and raised her as our own.”

“Oh, I see. She was much trouble, I reckon. Considering how she behaves now,” she split out and you froze at the other side of the table, where you were gathering empty plates.

“Quite the opposite, Madam. She was a polite child, helping her mother with everything she asked for and never complaining. May I know what bothers you, Madam, with my daughter’s behavior?”

You gulped, shooting Philip a panicked look, but he only shrugged. You were always cautious with your visits in Philip’s room, but if someone wished, they could easily spot you.

“I do believe that one of the gentleman here is very pleased with your daughter’s services, from what I’ve heard,” she announced with a victorious smile and a furious blush heated your cheeks. You wished the ground would open up and swallow you, but you could only look between Miss Brent and your father. However, it seemed that he was unaffected but that rather shocking news, unlike the other guests.

A silence fell, while everyone waited for more.

“Mister Lombard, maybe you could enlighten us? I saw Y/N sneaking out of your room early this morning. She did not look as if she had much sleep.”

“Miss Brent, you told you heard some kind of noises of pleasure, yes? Then, I’d say, you must’ve came quite close to my room since yours in at the opposite end of the corridor,” Philip retorted with a smug smirk and you bit the inner side of your cheek, preventing yourself from giggling.  

“If I may add something, Madam, I believe my daughter is mature enough to make her own decisions. She is an adult and she does what she wants. I may not be happy with all of her choices, but as long as she is happy, I will not scold her,” your father stated sternly and you smiled gratefully at him. His words, apparently, weren’t what Miss Brent expected as she gasped, titled her head up and you noticed her cheeks getting red. She appeared to be upset with how things played out.

“Y/N, I need your help with the dessert,” you heard your father and eagerly followed him out of the dining room, placing a kiss on his cheek as soon as the two of you were out of sight.

“Thank you, dad.”

“Anytime, my dear. It was a pleasure to cut her down to size. I can’t allow anyone to talk rubbish about my girl. Now, are we up to make her even more mad?”

“We most definitely are,” you said with a wide grin and your father responded with a broad, playful smile.

“Then, Y/N, you will serve the desserts starting from Mister Lombard. And make sure to look at him in a special way. I can’t wait to see Miss Brent’s face.”


End file.
